Page 85 of The Mirror of Beasts

Less than nine full days. That was all we had left to find this sword, and with every night that passed, he created more hunters, and more Children. And as the Children killed innocent people, more and more would appear until they overran the mortals of this world.

“The sorceresses can help.” Neve seemed galvanized at the thought of having something concrete to do. “They must have a sense of where Lord Death is hiding, and where we can find the sword. I’ll write to Madrigal again and ask.”

Caitriona lingered even after Neve went downstairs, still caught in that painful trap of indecision.

“Cabell won’t let anything happen to her,” I said, and instantly regretted it. She didn’t believe me, and her certainty shattered mine. In the quiet that followed, my own thoughts began to turn traitor.

He stood by and let it happen, my mind hissed. At the tower. At Rivenoak.

“We have to find the sword,” Caitriona said. I heard the tears in her voice, but didn’t turn around. Didn’t try to comfort her. That wasn’t what she wanted.

She wanted her sister, and if I couldn’t give her that, I could at least give her privacy.

I ran a thumb along the braided bracelet.

“Together to the end,” I whispered.

“Beyond that,” Caitriona answered, her tone hollow.

We’d made our choice, but the problem with choices wasn’t in the making—it was in learning to live with them. And that was a poison without an antidote.

After Caitriona went down to wash in the library’s bathroom and Neve busied herself looking for wherever Librarian had stashed Griflet, the attic had fallen silent again.

Only Emrys, still unconscious, was left for company. I sat beside him, listening to him struggle for each wheezing breath, staring into the night air.

A single word escaped him, a low murmur rippling with terror.

“… don’t …”

“Emrys?” I whispered. I moved to brush his dark hair from his forehead, to see if I could rouse him. Then those words, Don’t touch me, the memory of him pulling away like what I’d done had repulsed him, lashed at my raw muddle of feelings.

I brought my hand back into my lap.

“He’ll be all right.”

Nash stood in the doorway, hunched slightly to accommodate the slant of the roof. In his hands were two steaming mugs of coffee. The smell of it all but purred through me, setting off a deep longing.

“How would you know?” I muttered.

“Fever hasn’t set in yet, which means the ointment’s doing its job staving off infection,” Nash said, hesitating a moment before he sat down next to me.

The coffee mug was right in front of my face, my exhausted body was begging for it, but my petulance was stronger. “I don’t want that. I won’t be able to sleep.”

Nash raised an eyebrow.

Okay, no, my body and mind had hit the point of exhaustion where not even caffeine was powerful enough to keep me upright. My words were starting to slur.

I took it from him, but I wasn’t happy about it. I rummaged through my workbag, bracing myself for Nash to comment on the fact that it used to be his.

Instead, he eyed Emrys’s scars with a look of curiosity that made me feel protective against my will. “Don’t remember Endymion’s favorite toy being quite this banged up.”

“He’s the one who did this to his son,” I said, fighting the knot building in my throat. The thick scars were darker, more pronounced against Emrys’s ashen skin, crisscrossing his body like a map of suffering.

“Ah” was all Nash had to say to that.

“Is that why you warned me to stay away from him?” I asked. “Endymion?”

“The man had ice for a heart long before he joined the Wild Hunt,” Nash said. “When I heard he was spinning up the old Order of the Silver Stick nonsense, I made it a point to keep us away from the guild as much as possible.”

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